Come on, Eileen!
by Chris T. Brodie
Summary: A nosy, conceited girl accidentally gets caught spying on her new neighbor...Johnny the Homicidal maniac! Rated "R" for violence, gore, and coarse language.


Eileen Curson followed her father as he lugged a heavy box up to the room of their new house.   
  
"Watch it, Dad," she said flicking a speck off her neatly polished Barbie pink fingernail. "I've got my cutest babydoll Tee shirts in there!"  
  
Mr. curson just grumbled as he climbed up the stairs to Eileens new room. He placed the box on the floor before returning outside to retrieve more parcels from the moving van. Eileen sat on the floor next to the box and tried to pry it open.   
  
"It's so hot today," she said. "I want to change into a nice clean shirt."  
  
She tried to open the box, but it was tightly sealed with masking tape. Eileen trotted down the stairs to find a knife or pair of scissors in the kitchen when she bumped into one of her brothers, 19 year old Darrel causing him to drop his box.   
  
"Goddamn, Eileen! Can't you watch where you're going!? I had my plane models in that box!"  
  
"Sorry," she said insincerely. "But I really want to change out of this sweaty old shirt. So if you'll excuse me..."  
  
Darrel scooped up his box. "Eileen, we only drove for 4 hours. You can stand to spend the rermainder of the day in that shirt. It's a small T-shirt for Christ's sake!"  
  
But Eileen ignored him and ventured into the kitchen. It was bare, not even a spck of dust on the wooden floor. Eileen tried to find a boxcutter, when she spied her new nextdoor neighbor from the window. It was a small boy with black hair and big eyes. He was siting in a sand-box with what appeared to be a teddy bear with stitches all over it. Curious, Eileen abandoned her search and went outside to talk to this boy.   
  
Little Todd was startled when the 16 year old girl with long black hair, brown eyes, and a small pink T-shirt approached him. He clutched his slashed bear closer.   
  
"Hey," said Eileen.   
  
"Hello," squeaked Todd.   
  
"So what's your name?"  
  
"I'm Todd," he said. "Are you new here?"  
  
"Yeah. We're unpacking as I speak. My name's Eileen Curson."  
  
"How come you're not helping your family unpack?" asked Todd.  
  
"Hey, my dad and brother are big boys! I think they can haul our stuff into the house without any help from little old me," replied Eileen, as she heard her father drop a big box on his foot and scream holy red hell as it smashed his foot.   
  
"So hows this neighborhood, Todd? Any crazies to look out for?"  
  
Eileen laughed, but Todd looked like as if someone had pricked him with a needle. He looked real scared.   
  
"What's wrong?" Eileen was still laughing. "Are there vampires living nexdoor to you?"  
  
"No." Todd was far from amused.   
  
"What's up with you? Do your parents turn into big, furry, flesh eating werewolves at night?"  
  
"N-n-n-o! Oh my God, no!" Todd squealed as he grabbed his bear and held it tighter. Eileen looked at his torn toy.  
  
"Why does your bear have slash marks on it?"  
  
Todd stood up and began to head for the house.   
  
"whats wrong with you?" asked Eileen. "I was just kidding around!"  
  
Todd turned to her and said," You hafta look out for him."  
  
"What? Who?" she was puzzled.   
  
"There's this guy," Todd whispered. "And he's very creepy. He hurts other people real bad when they anger him."  
  
"Oookayy," Eileen said. Perhaps this kid had some kind of attention deficit disorder. Or maybe he was delusional. Either way, Eillen was not amused.   
  
Todd saw that she wasn't buying his story. "I'm serious! He's real mean, and he'll kill you if you anger him! Stay away from Jhonny!"  
  
"Johnny who?"  
  
Before Todd could answer, a man poked his head out from the screened back door.  
  
"TODD!" he yelled. "Get yer little ass in here for supper! We're having pork and beans and I don't want to hear one goddamn complaint about the food, or so help me I'll shove my foot so far up your fucking ass..."  
  
Todd ran inside without a second to spare. The door slammed shut as he scampered into the house.  
  
"Weird kid," said Eileen. "'Look out for Johnny.' I gotta find this guy and see what the deal is with him."  
  
  
  
That night, the Curson's were sitting in the living room eating their dinner. Mrs. Curson was too tired to unpack all of her pots, pans, and cookware, plus there was no food in the fridge, so Darrel drove out to a quaint little Chinese place called Wok don't Run and brought back some sweet and sour chicken and egrolls for the ravenous family. Mr. Curson was whining and moaning about his sore foot, which was wrapped up in a bandage.   
  
"Jesus Christ, it hurts," he commented as he took a bite of a crispy eggroll. After swallowing the piece, he glowered at Eileen. "And by the way, Eileen. Thanks a lot for helping us move in!"  
  
"Yeah, thanks a lot!" replied Darrel sarcastically. "My model planes are matchwood now, since you tripped me you little shit!"  
  
"Language!" cried Mrs. Curson, dropping her fork in excitement. "You are to refrain from using such foul language in this house!"  
  
"Well where were you?" asked Mr. Curson.   
  
"I spoke to this creepy little kid next door," said Eileen. "I think he's mental or something. He kept talking about a crazy guy named Johnny."   
  
Mrs. Curson shok her head. "Poor thing. Probably a delusional paranoid child."  
  
Eileen picked up her plate, which still had a few chunks of chicken and half an eggroll, and went to the kitchen.  
  
"Eileen, wait up! Can I have that?" asked Darrel.  
  
The sound of a fork scraping food into a plastic trashbag and the loud slam of the garbage pail lid reflected Eileen's response.   
  
"Bitch," muttered Darrel under his breath.   
  
But his mom heard it anyway. She choked on a piece of chicken, and coughed it up before screeching,"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT USING THAT LANGUAGE!?"  
  
  
As the sun rose in the pink sky, Eileen's bladder began to send messages to her brain that it was time to be emptied out. She staggered from the mattress on her bedroom floor and went to the bathroom. As she sat on the can, she was barely able to keep her eyes open. But while she was washing her hands, a silohuette of a tall, skinny figure appeared at the window.   
  
"Who's there?" asked Eileen, shutting off the water.   
  
The figure vanished, but Eileen was wide awake right now. She ripped open the window, but no one was in the yard. Eileen ran out of the bathroom and went outside in the front yard. But no one was outside. After running around the front yard, there was no one around. She checked the spot right below the bathroom window, but there was a large boot print in the dirt.   
  
"Darrel," she muttered. "He's sore because I shafted him twice yesterday."  
  
As Eileen stormed back into her house, Todd was busy retrieving the paper from his driveway. He had stopped to gawk at his panicking neighbor, when a tall slender fellow stepped up next to him.   
"So that's the new neighbor," said Johnny.   
  
"Go home, Johnny," pleaded Todd. "Please, don't bother her!"  
  
"Little Squeegee, since when have you ever known me to harass someone?"  
  
Todd looked up at him. "How about that Edgar Vargas guy, the clerk at 24-7, that wannabe named Jimmy......"  
  
"Yeah, well all of those people pissed me off first," said Johnny. "As long as this kid doesn't piss me off, then we should be on good terms."  
  
  
  
At breakfast that morning, Eileen erupted into a screaming fit about the prowler. Darrel laughed it off, but Mr. and Mrs. Curson seemed concerned.   
  
"I thought this was a good neighborhood," said Mr. Curson. "Christ, those damn real estate agents will feed you as much B.S. as possible to con you into buying a damn house!"  
  
"Don't be so hasty, dear," soothed Mrs. Curson as she handed her husband a jelly donut. "I'm sure that Eileen must have scared him off when she caught him peeping in."  
  
"Yeah," said Darrel as he nabbed a chocolate donut. "If I had seen Eileen peeing, then I'd get scared and run away for sure, too."  
  
He guffawed like an idiot at his comment.   
  
"It's not funny, Darrel!" snapped Eileen.   
  
But he continued to laugh until Mrs. Curson told him to shut up.   
  
"Why don't you go outside and clean out the car?"  
  
"Aw do I have to?"  
  
"I'll give you $10 if you vacuum and wax the Isuzu," said Mr. Curson.   
  
"Really?"  
  
Mrs. Curson held out a wrinkled ten. "Yeah."  
  
Darrel eagerly snatched up the ten and ran outside.   
  
"Now for a nice, quiet breakfast," said Mr. Curson taking a bite of his jelly donut.   
  
  
Afterwards, Eileen was still preoccupied with the prowler. Her mom had told her to unpack her clothes, but she snuck out of the house instead. As she walked down the driveway, Darrel was waxing the family's red Isuzu Trooper.   
  
"Hey Eileen!" he called. "There's a tall skinny guy two houses down! Maybe he's the stalker!"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Come on Eileen, can't you take a joke?"  
  
She ignored him and began walking toward Todd's house. Then she walked to the next house, which was in poor condition and seemed run down. It needed a fresh coat of paint and a lawn trimming.  
Just then, a tall skinny boy walked by the living room window.   
  
"It's him!"  
  
Eileen quietly crept through the tall grass and peered into the window. Nothing. She was about to turn back, when she heard a scream.  
  
"What was that? It could have been the TV, but it sounded too...real."  
  
Eileen spied a basement window on the side of the house. She crept down on all fours and peered inside.   
  
Johnny was pacing in the basement, right in front of a zit-faced teenager in a Burger King uniform chained to the wall. The poor kid was trying to remain calm, but tears ran down his face.   
  
"Please, have mercy on me!"  
  
Johnny quit pacing and faced his victim. "Mercy? You dare to insult me behind my back, and taint my meal and then have the nerve to beg me for mercy?"  
  
"Yes," whimpered the kid.   
  
"Well FUCK mercy!" snapped Johnny. "Fuck it all to sweet red Hell. You see, my pizza-faced friend, when you think that spitting in people's burgers will teach them better manners, you'd better think twice!"  
  
"Free me, and I'll let you eat for free!" pleaded the teen. "A lifetime supply of charbroiled whoppers all for you!"  
  
"What, so you and your pimple-puss bosom buddies will hawk loogies in them? What kind of a goddamn moron do you take me for?"   
  
The teen could only cry.   
  
"I can't stand to see you cry like that. I'm gonna cut you a break."  
  
The teen quit crying and looked up at his captor. "Really? You'll put an end to this?"  
  
"Oh yes," said Johnny with a grin.   
  
"Thank you! I swear to God, I'll never spit on another burger again! And I'll actually wash my hands after using the restroom!"  
  
Johnny grimaced. "Now that's just plain gross! However, I'm going to see to it that you keep your promise."  
  
Johnny put on a pair of black leather gloves. He made a fist in each hand, triggering four long steel blades to sprout from the back of the gloves like claws. Then he pounced on the burger boy, slicing him to bits. Johnny went for his soft throat, his eyes, and his legs. With each slash, a splash of blood and a strip of flesh flew in the air, like a perverse mix of confetti.   
After Nny was through with the burger boy, the wall where he was once chained was covered with red blood dribbling down and pieces of skin were splattered everywhere.   
  
Meanwhile, Eileen had witnessed the whole ordeal. Now she knew why little Todd was deathly afraid of Johnny. The poor kid wasn't ill, Johnny was just fucking nuts!  
  
She slowly rose up from the grass and tried to slip away unnoticed. But her foot accidentally kicked a small pebble into the window. Johnny heard it and immediately looked at the window to see Eileen running away.  
  
"She knows," growled Johnny.  
  
  
Mr. Curson was carrying Mrs. curson's bone china collection to the kitchen. He was walking very slowly, making sure he had a good grip on the box. If he were to break so much as a plate, his wife would kill him. When Eileen burst in through the front door, a startled Mr. Curson yelped and dropped the box.   
  
"Shit, shit, shit!" he screamed. "What is your malfunction, Eileen!?"  
  
Eileen ignored the fact that her father was pissed off beyond all recognition. "The prowler...he lives two houses down! And I saw him kill someone in his basement!"  
  
"Your mother is going to kill ME when she finds out that I broke her china dishes!" snapped Mr. Curson.   
  
"Hello? China dishes!? Dad, we gotta get outta here! This guy's a homicidal maniac! We could be next!"  
  
"That's it!" Mr. Curson had put up with enough bullshit from Eileen since they had moved in. "You have got to quit messing around and actually do some work around here! I've heard enough hogwash about little creepy kids, and tall killers!"  
  
"But Dad, I'm serious!"  
  
"I don't give a rat's ass! Just go to your godamn room and I don't want to see you come out untill all of your clothes and crap are put away!"  
  
Eileen went to her room. There was no point in arguing with her dad.   
  
She tried to unpack her clothes, but it was difficult focusing on the task at hand when flashbacks of the sanguine murder kept replaying in her head. At one point, she was so scared that she found herself digging her nails deeper into a thin yellow blouse until she felt her nails poking her palms on the other side of the shirt. Upon loosening her grip, she saw four little holes in her shirt. She tossed it on her mattress, and gave up on unpacking.   
  
A thump on the bedroom floor caught her attention. Eileen turned to see the killer standing in front of the window.  
  
"Oh my God," she whispered in a hoarse voice. "The killer's in my house!"   
  
"Yes," said Johnny. "The killer's here. And I know that you were spying on me as I properly disposed of that fast-food kid."  
  
Eileen felt something rise in her throat. Small beads of sweat cropped up on her skin as she went pale.   
  
"I..I have no...no idea what you are talking about," she stammered.   
  
Nny shook his head. "Kee-rist! You have got to be the worst goddamn liar I've ever seen! I've heard some bad ones before, but you my dear take the golden horse's ass trophy."  
  
As Nny approached her, Eileen backed up against the wall. "What do you want?"  
  
"Who are you?" asked Nny.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Eileen." What was he doing?  
  
"Oh, like the song?"  
  
"what song?"  
  
Nny grinned. Eileen felt her bladder wriggle among her entrails. The possibility of urinating in front of this psycho was not far away.   
  
"You know, the one that goes, 'Oh won't you come on, Eileen...'" Johnny sang.  
  
"Never heard it," she said. "what do you want?"  
  
Nny raised his arms and stretched before continuing. "I'm not gonna beat around the bush, Eileen. You and I both know what happened this morning, and under normal circumstances I'd be forced to..you know," he said sliding his index finger across his throat.   
  
"Oh my god," Eileen's bladder was now doing the Texas-Two step in her guts.   
  
"Whats wrong? Gotta pee?" asked Nny in mock sympathy.  
  
Eileen couldn't take it anymore. She bolted for the door, but Nny managed to beat her to it and blocked her from exiting the room.  
  
"Move it! I really gotta go!"  
  
"Oh, I'll let you go. But you've gotta do something for me."  
  
"Name it!" Eileen was desperate.   
  
"Don't say a damn word about this to anyone," he whispered.   
  
"Deal!"   
  
Nny moved and Eileen bolted for the bathroom. After relieving herself, she hiked up her pants and washed her hands. As she lathered them up with soapy water, she heard Darrel yell from the hallway,"Look out for crazy Johnny!" Eileen ignored him, but when she turned to open the door, she saw Nny blocking the exit once again.  
  
"You did tell them about me," he said. "I'm disappointed in you."  
  
"But they don't know about the burger boy!" said Eileen. "Please let me go!"   
  
"Sorry, Eileen but you see I never get caught. And with your knowledge, you're a big risk. I can't have that."   
  
"Please, I promise I won't tell!" she screamed.   
  
Nny stuffed a waddded up washcloth in her mouth. Eileen tried to get away, but she was only able to run to the shower. She shut the sliding glass door hoping it would serve as a barricade from that killer. Johnny had grabbed the plunger and snapped the rubber portion off, creating a splintery pointy tipped stake. Then, without warning, he raised his heavy boot and kicked in the glass door. Shards of glass flew into the shower, slicing Eileen's skin. Her arms, legs, feet, and face were dripping with blood and covered with pieces of glass. Johnny raised the stake.  
Eileen tried to scream, but the washcloth was still in her mouth. He held the stake like a javelin and plunged it right into Eileen's chest. She collapsed to the floor, bleeding and crying. Johnny peered down at her.  
  
"Not dead yet, eh?"   
  
Eileen lay there on the shower floor, trying to block out the pain from the broken glass piercing her flesh in addition to the throbbing pain from the plunger-stake in her chest. She expected Nny to finish her off by belting her with a pipe or some big blunted object. Instead, she just heard him rifling through the cabinets, taking out tissue boxes, toilet paper rolls, and cleaning liquids. It sounded like he was pouring something into the sink. But what?  
  
Johnny took one look at his victim before crawling out the window. He was smirking to himself and cheerfully whistling, "Come on, Eileen."   
Then a sharp, bitter odor crept up Eileen's nostrils. It made her eyes water, and her throat burn. The smell was oddly familiar, though she couldn't remember what it was. Then she remembered the time that she was cleaing the bathroom at her old house. She had to open the window because she had mixed cleaning chemicals. The smell was becoming unbearable, and she felt herself becoming really light headed. Before she took her final breath, it finally dawned on her.  
  
"Ammonia and Chlorine."  
  
  
  
THE END 


End file.
